


Dead or Alive

by orions_doubt



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Horrorfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Mobfell (Undertale), Angst and Fluff and Smut, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Healthy Polyamory, I promise, Kidnapping, Kinda, Named Reader, Polyamory, a bit - Freeform, despite the kidnapping, dub-con, it's healthy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:13:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29759454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orions_doubt/pseuds/orions_doubt
Summary: Your father has assigned you to seduce and leak information from the biggest name in the city: The Gasters.Unfortunately, you just made their job a whole-heck-of-a-lot easier when it turns out they were going to do the same to you. Well, their version had a lot more kidnapping and killing in it.
Relationships: Papyrus (Undertale)/Reader, Sans (Undertale)/Reader, W. D. Gaster/Reader
Comments: 24
Kudos: 81





	1. Just Like Fanfiction

**Author's Note:**

> hello! i got frustrated with my other fics and i'm running out of steam and inspiration for a lot of them. sorry about that. let's see if i can actually take this one past three chapters. 
> 
> i think i've come a long way from when i first started writing (i'm too scared to go back and read my first fic), so i'm pretty proud of this. 
> 
> even though this has kidnapping in it, and some dub-con, i'm going to try and make it as fluffy and healthy as i can, but there's only so much i can do considering this is a mob-fic featuring HorrorFell. 
> 
> enjoy, and please leave comments! i love to hear what you guys have to say, and i want to know how i can improve to make this a better experience for readers.

As per usual, it was fucking colder than a witches tit outside. Steam billowed through the sewer grates lining the sidewalks, the street lamps flickered with uncertainty. There were a couple people out tonight, some drunk, some hurrying home from a late night shift, all too poor to afford a taxi. There was barely enough light to let your eyes see for more than a couple of feet. After they adjusted, you could gaze a bit further than that, but as soon as a car came by, headlights blaring, your eyes would have to adjust all over again. This made it dangerous to walk around without a flashlight. You might get attacked, passing by one of the numerous alleyways that dung into the sides of buildings. One would occasionally hear about the person who just moved to town, who didn’t know about the dangers lurking in the dark. They would go missing. If it was a woman, they were most likely sold to a sex trafficing ring. If it was male, they would most likely be cut up and sold for meat. Human meat always had a high price. Humans themselves didn’t have much of a taste for it, but monsters absolutely loved the stuff. 

What were you doing out in the dangerous streets? You were waiting for someone. Actually, three somebodies. The Gaster brothers. The most infamous family around. They weren’t a gang, they didn’t rely on anyone besides themselves, yet somehow, they were the biggest names in the city. It used to be the Dreemurs, no one quite knew what happened to them. Your father was the second biggest name in the city, “Serris”. You personally wanted nothing to do with the drama that the two families had with each other, but apparently this would be “good for you”. You were propped up against the wall of a greasy bar called “Grillby’s”. According to your dad’s sources, the targets would be having a meeting in there tonight, hence the fact that the place (which was usually a madhouse) was a ghost town. You, in your dad’s own words, were to “seduce them” and “uncover their secrets”. You rolled your eyes just thinking of it. It was the twenty-first century, yet your dad was acting like it was the 1920’s. 

He also had another reason for putting you on the job, your sister had just gotten shacked up with some low-level gangster (who was under the impression he was the shit) who was extremely possessive of her. Your sister usually did missions like these, while you stayed at home passing time by rewatching TV shows and doodling. You never had much of an appetite for this kind of stuff. Your dad had a bit of a flare for dramatics, and had put together a whole character for you to pretend to be. You were supposed to be a mysterious damsel in distress. Whatever the hell that meant. His staff had stuffed you into a strapless, tight red dress that barely covered your ass. Wrapped around it was a black corset, that pushed up your chest unnecessarily. You tried to stop them at the black pumps and fishnet stockings, but they insisted. Needless to say, you were fucking freezing your ass off, waiting by the backdoor of some sleazy bar for three dudes who have been rumored to have a scary amount of magic at their fingertips. Did you also need to be reminded that they also had been known to have an insatiable taste for human flesh? Thanks dad. 

You pulled out the package of cigarettes you had been given by the prep team. You had never smoked before, but your dad insisted that your character would smoke. You opened the cardboard and plucked out a stick, fumbling a bit trying to get it out of the package. You took out your zippo and attempted to light it. It took you longer than it should have. The flame sparked to life and started to dance in the slight breeze of the night. The warmth was a significant contrast to the chill. You put the death-stick in between your index and middle finger, like you had seen in movies, then brought the zippo up to the end, watching as the tip burned and smoldered. You brought it up to your painted lips and inhaled, promptly regretting your decision as the dirty smoke scalded its way into your lungs. You choked, blowing whatever cover you once had by coughing like you had the plague. Way to go, that’s certainly a way to attract any man. You straightened up and gave the cancer-causer a glare before tossing it into a near-by gutter. Your character would just have to go the night without having fucked up lungs. 

The metal exit door, about five feet away from you, opened. A tall figure ducked it’s way out of the opening and straightened up, staring down at you with a calculated gaze. You momentarily forgot who you were supposed to be and took some time to gawk at the figure. He was definitely one of the brothers, maybe about nine feet tall. He looked skeletal, with a thin frame and an eerie smile. Two jagged cracks made their way up and down his porcelain smooth face. One eye socket seemed to be melted closed, the other was lit up with what seemed like a red LED light. You remembered that you were supposed to be nonchalant, and not staring blatantly at the targets. You leaned against the wall in an attempt to be cool. 

“Come here often?”

You mentally slapped yourself for that one. The tall skeleton chuckled, apparently humored with your futile efforts. 

“Not as often as one of my brothers. You however, I don’t think you’ve ever been here before. Am I right, Victoria Serris?”

You chuckled awkwardly. You didn’t expect to be found out this soon. You were hoping to at least say goodbye to some of your internet buddies before being eaten by mobsters. You could try to deny it, but he seemed like the type that won every single game of BS that he played. You pushed yourself off the wall and took a couple of steps back. 

“Welp, uh… there goes that plan. If you don’t mind, I’m going to walk away and pretend like this never happened.”

You turn around and attempt to move, only to get stopped by floating disembodied hands that seem to have attached themselves to your arms. 

“And what might that plan be? To seduce us?”

You found yourself being turned around against your will. The skeleton was a lot closer than he originally was, now only a foot away from you, bending at the waist to look you in the eyes. His attached hands might have been folded behind his back, but that didn’t stop one of the other ones to lift your chin up, like the typical cliché villain move. 

“Well, I must say, you already did that. You didn’t need to bother coming out here in the first place.”

Your feel your brows start to furrow as confusion seeps into your mind. The cogs in your brain start to move as they try to figure out exactly what his words mean. You find your teeth start to pick at the dry skin on the inside of your lip. 

“Confused? Well, my dear, my brother was investigating the people of your house and found you. Needless to say, we all got hooked after that. You know, your internet security is pretty flimsy for a daughter of someone in high places. It made it quite easy to access almost everything about you.”

You felt the blood start to rush to your cheeks at the notion that he had a crush on you. Although, it might have also been because of the look he had on his face. Absolute hunger shined in his eyes, you had a feeling you might have just put yourself on the menu. 

“Actually, I came out here because my brother felt a soul presence, one that was pulsing wildly, to the point you would think someone was getting robbed out here. Imagine my surprise when it’s you. You actually did most of the work for us, we were just talking about finding a way to get to you. Your father keeps you so sheltered.”

You were frozen in place, not sure what to say. Luckily, you didn’t have to, the metal side door of the bar opened again, and out stepped another skeleton. This one was definitely shorter, only about 6’10”, but he was way stockier. Thick bones and a round skull. Jagged teeth formed his smile, and a giant hole that cut into one of his eye sockets was featured on the right side of his skull. The broken eye socket was filled with a glowing ball of light, you assumed it functioned as an eye. You felt your mouth hang open once again, awestruck by the sheer dominating presence of the two. 

“‘ey bro, why th- oh.”

The shorter one’s gaze locked with yours, sending a shiver down your spine. His teeth stretched into a terrifying grin. 

“well, well, well. looks like all that planning was for nothing.”

The taller one chuckled in agreement.

“she’s bound ta be cold, why don’t we warm ‘er up?”

He punctuated the sentence with a wink that made your legs feel like jelly. Half of your brain wanted to run, the other half wanted to follow them to the ends of the Earth. The shorter one and the taller one both made their way through the metal exit door, the disembodied hands forcing you to follow them. You were led through a large kitchen, filled with grills, knives, and the smell of cooked meat. Pushing through a wooden door, the shorter one took it upon himself to guide you by the shoulders into what you assumed was the main dining area. Sitting at a table was another skeleton. This one was maybe six inches taller than the first one. He featured a thin face with sharp, protruding cheek bones, and a mouth full of jagged teeth that looked like they could kill a human easily. All three of the Gaster Brothers in one room. Needless to say, you were most likely in a lot of danger. 

You didn’t dare look anywhere in the room besides the warped hardwood floor, feeling that if you were to look up, you would be killed on the spot. Your mind rushed to conclusions on what they would do to you. Would they fatten you up and eat you alive? Would they keep you as some sort of slave? 

“‘ey, dollface, i’m talkin’ ta ya.”

You startle out of your mind spiral and look up to see that the short and the tall one had sat down across from the third Gaster Brother. All three of them had their attention locked onto you. Needless to say, you felt the need to swallow a lump in your throat. You did the only thing that came naturally to you, and flashed an awkward peace sign. Deep chuckles echoed around the room. 

“I suppose it’s only proper for us to introduce ourselves. You can call me Gaster, my dear, and these are my brothers, Sans,” the tall one points to the stockier one, “and Papyrus,” he points to the third skeleton. You nearly snort, their mom must’ve really not liked them. 

“Would you like to share with the room what you were doing out in the cold in…” his eye takes its time to rake up and down your body, following the generous curves of your hips and chest, “that outfit.”

You nod shakily, having a feeling that disobeying would only put you in further trouble.

“... uh… my father wanted me to seduce you… please don’t kill me,” you end your sentence with a whispered plea. It’s true, you didn’t want to die. You still had so many amazing things you had yet to experience. It might have been cheesy, but finding love was on that list. Your pitiful attempt to arouse emotion in them (to prevent them from killing you), was only met with hysterical laughter. The stockier one you had come to know as Sans, had his head thrown back, barks of amusement poured out of his mouth like smoke. 

“we ain’t gonna kill ya, doll. you actually just made things so we wouldn’t have to kill anyone at all.”

You tilted your head in confusion and opened your mouth, questions at the tip of your tongue before Gaster stepped in and clarified, “Our original plan was to abduct you. But see, the reinforcements on your estates would have to require at least twenty-or-so to be killed in order to get to you. Now that you’re here, we don’t have to do a thing.”

You let out a quiet whimper when it fully sunk in that this meeting was inevitable. You had fallen right into their hands. Oh father, what had you done? Out of all of this mess, one question popped into your head, and you asked before you lost the guts to even move: “Why me?”

The one that hadn’t spoken before now, Papyrus, answered in a scratchy voice, “Why Not You? We’ve Read Your Stories,” you flushed, embarrassed that they had found your account, “We’ve Seen How Lonely You Are, We’ve Seen Almost Everything About You. Why Wouldn’t We Want You To Ourselves?”

If it wasn’t so stalker-ish, you might have thought it was sweet. This is what you always wanted right? People telling you that they liked you, you being admired for your personality and personality, not just your body. Granted, you never expected it to be from three of Ebott City’s most wanted. They always do say be careful what you wish for. You watched, frozen, as Sans stood up from his seat and took a couple strides towards you until you were essentially chest-to-chest with him. He offered his hand and took a deep bow, a smirk adorning his jagged teeth. You, slightly confused but terrified, took it and allowed yourself to be led to the table. Sans sat down again, and you found yourself being dragged onto his lap. You made a small squeak as your ass connected to his lap (it was surprisingly squishy for a skeleton, it must’ve been magic). His thick arms wrapped themselves around your stomach, and his bony chin rested itself on top of your head. It was now essentially impossible for you to escape. You attempted to squirm, trying to tell the barnacle-of-a-skeleton behind you that you were not a fan, only for you to yelp in pain as something sharp nipped your earlobe. 

“ _ behave _ .” 

You stopped squirming after that. 

Gaster cleared his throat and shifted, slightly turned on by watching his brother and you interact. He attempted to make conversation: “I assume you have questions. It’s only natural, I assume.”

That opens the floodgates, questions start to spew from your mouth at rapid fire, “Are you really the Gaster Brothers? What's going to happen to me now? Will I ever be able to see my father or sister again? Areyougoingtomakemebeyourslaveorsomething?”

Gaster holds up a hand, chuckling at your “enthusiasm”. 

“See, we won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. Well, besides the fact that you will now be living with us,” you open your mouth to protest, “don’t worry, you’ll still be able to see your family. Eventually, if my calculations are correct, Stockholm syndrome will kick in about a week from now or so, and we will all be a big happy family.” Despite his jagged teeth, Gaster can pull off a very pleasant smile. “Don’t worry, my dear, you will have the best accommodations money can buy.” That doesn’t make you feel any better about your situation. 

You pull the last card in your deck, “My dads not gonna like this.”

Gaster waves a hand, “No need to worry about him, he has already been made aware of the situation and has full-heartedly agreed.”

You feel your mouth drop open in surprise, you attempt to talk, trying to say something that will convince these people that you aren’t the right one, or that you shouldn’t live with them, but all trains of thought are stopped abruptly when Sans decides to nuzzle into the back of your neck, letting his hot breath create goosebumps. His hands stray to your waist, kneading at the skin. A whimper bubbles up in your throat that you attempt desperately not to let loose. 

It’s Papyrus who stops him this time, “Brother! She’s Not Going To Like You Any Faster If You Keep Being A Slut!”

You frown at him slut shaming, not entirely a big fan of people doing that. The monster behind you lets out another deep chuckle, his ribs vibrating against your back, sending sparks of electricity down to your core. 

“you’ve seen the types of things she’s read. you can smell it in the air too.”

They’ve seen what you’ve been reading?! Your eyes grow wide, trying to figure out what they mean by “you can smell it in the air”. Did that mean they could tell that you were secretly enjoying all of this?! As if he could read your mind, Sans answered your question, slightly muffled from putting his face against your exposed shoulder: “it’s easy ta tell, doll. ya don’t need soul vision to recognize how  _ wet _ ya are right now.”

You shifted uncomfortably in his lap, realizing yourself that your body has been responding the whole time. You suddenly found yourself wishing that you had fought harder to wear bike shorts underneath your skimpy dress. You wondered briefly why the others had stopped trying to halt the ministrations of their brother. Opening your eyes (you didn’t realize you had them closed) you saw that the two of them were attempting to look away from the scene, only to fail and take quick looks at the sight of your flushed figure. 

“come on, doll. tell the audience, yer enjoying this, aren’t ya?”

You were, but like hell you were going to say it out loud. You couldn’t help but think to yourself, he was right, this was like a scene in so many fanfictions you have indulged yourself in. You shook your head, refusing to say anything in case your vocals failed you. Another yelp escaped you as the burly monster nipped at your collar bone. He exhaled his scalding hot breath on the shell of your ear. 

“ _ come on. be a good girl for me _ .”

Your face, if it wasn’t bright red before, flushed harder than it ever has in its life. Your body was aching to respond, brain screaming at you to give in. This is all you ever wanted right? The two other skeletons had given up trying to give the two of your privacy, and were now full-out staring. You lowered your head in shame.

“I’m enjoying it.” 

Sans purred (something you didn’t know skeletons could do) and rubbed his cheek against the back of your neck. You felt yourself getting dizzy as the scent of cherries and… driftwood… filled the air. You could almost see it, faint red swirls emitting off of the skeleton behind you and curling into the air like tendrils. 

“ _ mmmm, we know you are, kitten. _ ”

Again, you flushed, this time at his choice of petname. Gaster was the first one to shake himself out of his trance: “Yes, well, we better head out, Grillby will have our heads if his bar ends up smelling like you.” He punctuated the sentence with a glare at his shorter brother. 

“Come along now, darling. It’s time to see your new home.”

  
  



	2. The Home of The Damned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw: slight dub-con, sans being a perv (who's surprised?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! i'm back with another chapter! woohooo!
> 
> anyways, hope you guys are having a good week, it's almost halfway over, so hang in there. 
> 
> comment if you want anything specific to happen, not really sure if there's actually gonna be any plot to this story, i just like writing fluff. 
> 
> bye!

You had to admit, even though you knew they were mobsters and most likely filthy rich, you were still in awe by the sheer size of their home. They lived on the outskirts of town, maybe about a mile from the main road, tucked back in a forest for privacy. It seemed like it didn’t have very good security, and from the house, there was no evidence of any type of fencing. You knew better though, due to the heavy metal (most likely electric) gate that was blocking the entrance from the road. The house itself was an old Victorian style, but it looked more like four Victorians smashed together. Spirals and cone roofs could be seen, along with a couple of ornate brick chimneys that would make any house realtor happy. It was painted a soft khaki (you had to admit, it was a good color on the house), and bright plants adorned the sides, complimenting the shade of brown-ish green. You were ushered into the house through giant oak double-doors with Gaster’s hands on your shoulders. Probably to insure that you didn’t go off running. It’s not like they couldn’t catch you if you did. They had a whole army of henchmen at their disposal. That, and you couldn’t climb trees, which left you almost no options of where to hide in the forest. Standing in the main hallway, you felt like a dwarf amongst the tall ceilings and wooden pillars. Off to one side was an elegant staircase, leading to an open balcony that showed off the second floor, the main entrance room itself was stiff, like it was meant to just be admired. You had to admit, you weren’t the biggest fan of this room. The only thing in it was a couple of velvet couches, some decorative vases, and a large rug, probably sold from some fancy department store in Ebott City. 

You allowed yourself to be led upstairs (you nearly tripped on a couple of them with your heels), Gaster’s hands still resting near your neck, almost like a warning. He led you through a door and into a more homey area, obviously this was the actual family room. It looked welcoming, unlike the entrance room. It was complete with a roaring brick fireplace and bookshelves adorning each wall (stuffed to the brim). Pushed up against another wall was several overstuffed couches and a flatscreen TV with several game consoles connected to it. You managed to detach yourself from the creeping hand and take a couple of slow spins, taking in the warmth of the place. You could see off of one end, was another hallway, another end had the opening to a kitchen. 

“Nice place.”

You turned back around to look at the three skeletons. Each one of them staring at you with a slightly different expression.

“Is that the end of the tour?”

“For now, Papyrus, take her to her room, please.”

You get the sense that Gaster is the head brother. You allow yourself to be taken by the arm and lead into the hallway, down a couple doors and into a room on the right. It’s pretty simple, a closet on one end of the room and a four-poster queen bed pushed up against a corner. Papyrus clears his throat to get your attention, “I Wouldn’t Expect You To Be Sleeping In Here A Lot.” A very obvious smirk appears on his face that makes you shudder. If you can help it, this room is where you will be spending the majority of your time. He exits the room in a flourish, you wonder if drama club was a thing in the underground.

You flop onto your bed, sprawled out, not really wanting to move anymore. It’s late, and fuck if you aren’t tired. You curl up on top of the fluffy duvet, too lazy to bother getting underneath. You manage to slip out of your heels using only your feet, and drag your knees up to your chest in a fetal position. You needed to find a way out of here. You start to do your usual routine of daydreaming something fluffy before bed. This time, you have chosen a nice date with your comfort character. You drift off to sleep, with the pleasant scenario still dancing in your head.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


_ You walked down the dark hallway, unseen forces guiding your every step, pushing you closer to the flickering light at the end of the hallway. Crimson swirls curled through the air, making the path clear. Your robe fluttered behind you, giving your silhouette a ghost-like appearance as you took dainty steps down the corridor. You rounded a corner, blurry images and figures surrounded you, partially blocking out the little light there was to be had. They pawed at your thin covering, snagging it off your shoulders and letting it fall to the floor in a puddle of red fabric. Gentle touches caressed your figure, exploring your curves, molding your flesh, paying attention to every little detail.  _

_ You felt like you were floating. _

  
  


* * *

  
  


You jolted up from your slumber, completely aware of the fact that your breathing patterns were irregular. Your heartbeat was in the hundreds, doing reps to try and keep up with blood rushing to get in places that you really didn’t want them to go to. You tried to move, only to start groaning at the familiar wetness in between your legs, sticking your thighs together. You sat up, wishing you had brought your phone to check the time (bad choice to not bring it, hindsight is 20/20). You could tell it was early, and not the normal hours for people to be awake. Standing on wobbly legs, you headed out of the room. It was a risky choice, but your throat was absolutely parched, and you needed to cool yourself down. 

You headed down the hallway, doors on each side of you, praying that none of them opened in that moment. If Sans and the other knew that you were aroused before, who knew what they would do now if they didn’t have a supposed angry bartender to stop them. You shudder at the thought, partially in excitement (you hate to admit), partially in horror. You made it out of the corridor in one piece, skirting your way around the couches and into the kitchen, getting a good look at it for the first time. It was a decent sized kitchen, nothing too fancy, but nothing too shabby. Two ovens, a dishwasher, a gas stove, a sink, and an island with barstools on one side. Cabinets overhead and underneath, painted a black color (maybe it’s just because it’s dark), contrasting with the white marble of the countertops You started to open cabinets blindly and randomly, looking for a cup. You opened a cabinet just above the sink to find some wine glasses. You shrugged to yourself, it was better than having to drink out of your hands. You took down one of the fancy glasses (if you knew from your father’s fancy parties, you would say it had to be for white wine) and put it under to tap, turning it on to cold and letting the glass fill up ⅔ of the way. You took a sip, for some reason, their tap water tasted a lot better than yours at home. How? It was just water? Maybe they had a filter hidden under the sink.

You turned around, only to jump and give a mini scream at Gaster sitting at the bartop. That certainly did not help your rapid heartbeat at all. You realized you were doing a stereotypical “damsel in distress” move with your hand covering your chest. You quickly removed it and tried to appear nonchalant. 

Gaster chuckles quietly, “Forgive me, my dear. I heard someone up and decided to investigate. Bad dream?”

You blushed. No, the dream you had was not bad at all, but you didn’t want to risk telling Gaster that, so you simply nodded your head. His jagged teeth tilt upwards in a smile, as if he is thinking of an inside joke. “Must’ve been a pretty erotic bad dream then.” He sends what you think might be a wink your way, you can’t tell because of the melted socket. Either way, you find your cheeks re-flushing. Of course he can tell, why did you think he couldn’t? Gaster gets up from the bartop, and makes his way towards you, long strides that would be impossible on your legs, look completely natural for him. He stops in front of you and leans down so you are face to face. 

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t have expected any less.”

He plucks the wine glass from your hands (you didn’t realize that it was now empty), and places it behind you in the sink. His hands find their place on your waist, keeping you in place, preventing you from escape. 

“Tell me, my sweet, what was the dream like?”

In one swift movement, he presses himself flush to your body, making sure you are still pushed up against the counter. One hand leaves your waist to cradle the back of your head. He leans down: “ _ Was it Papyrus?” _

His teeth nip at your earlobe, you bite down on your lip to muffle any sounds threatening to come out, “ _ Or maybe it was Sans?” _

Another nibble, “ _ Or perhaps, me?” _

This time, it’s a full on bite, you yelp. It was the fact that you weren’t expecting it, not the pain. It didn’t actually hurt that bad, compared to what you imagine he could do with those teeth of his. He pulls back, and examines your flushed face with a scrutinizing eye. Your mouth slightly parted, breaths struggling to regain control. Your eyes are slightly hazy, obviously reflecting that your other senses are a little skewed at the moment. He chuckles darkly, sending a shiver down your spine (you can’t discern whether it’s pleasant or not). 

“ _ Let’s see if we can make your dream come true, hmm?” _

With that, he captures your mouth in a kiss that has your mind struggling to gain control over itself. It’s slow and sweet at the same time it’s hungry and passionate. Mock fireworks have started to go off in your head. You find that he seems to have some sort of invisible lips, your’s working with his to mold together like a puzzle. The hand threaded behind your head grips on tightly to your hair, tugging it slightly. Your pain receptors struggle to alert your brain, but all it can do is find pleasure in the action. Unaware, you let out a moan, and your open mouth is taken advantage of with a slimy appendage that makes itself at home. It explores the caverns of your mouth, twisting and curling around your tongue in almost impossible ways. Gaster pulls back with a nip to your bottom lip that leaves it swollen. You stare up at him breathlessly, finding yourself wanting more, before you regain your senses and attempt to push him away. 

“If you must know, that was nothing like my dream.”

You glare up at him when he doesn’t budge, hoping that you have some intimidation factor. Gaster only chuckles and keeps his place in front of you. 

“ _ My, my, my. We have quite the little tiger on our hands. Just remember what I said before, dear, Stockholm Syndrome is a real thing. _ ”

He releases his hold on you and walks out of the kitchen, sending you another wink as he does, making you flustered all over again. You make a frustrated groan and run your hands through your hair. Your brain was running a mile a minute, trying to figure out a plan to escape. You could potentially trick them into letting you go, maybe if you proved that you liked them. No, but that would probably require you to kiss them again. Although, no matter how much your brain tried to deny it, you did enjoy the moment you and Gaster shared. You hated feeling this weak. You did  _ not  _ enjoy playing the damsel in distress. 

* * *

  
  
  


You woke up the next morning to the sound of muffled shouting. You groan and roll over when you remember that A, you were kidnapped, and B, you kissed your kidnapper last night. After that fiasco, you headed back to your room and changed into a pair of pajamas you found in your closet. Well, they weren’t actually pajamas, it was just a dress shirt you managed to find, and turned it into a nightgown. What you assumed were the actual pajamas, were more like silk nightgowns that barely covered anything. Most of the clothes seemed way too fancy for your tastes. You groan and roll out of bed, weighing the pros and cons of leaving your room, while being face first on the floor. Pros, you were hungry and maybe you could get some food. Cons, you would have to probably talk to them and be around them to get said food. Your stomach growls angrily, answering the question of whether you actually needed breakfast or not. You frown, and hoist yourself off the floor, figuring you might as well get it over with. It was just like ripping off and band aid, right? You head out of the bedroom, down the hallway, through the living room, and into the kitchen, finding all three of the brothers up. Sans and Gaster are sitting at the table, both drinking coffee, Sans seems to be arguing with Papyrus about something. Papyrus is standing over the kitchen stove, flipping pancakes onto a plate. You hate to admit it, but they look really good (the pancakes, not the brothers. Definitely not the brothers). 

“Uh, good morning.”

You might as well be courteous. The three look up, almost in surprise, to see you standing there in your makeshift night gown that barely covers your butt. Oh well, they did see the dress you wore last night, how was this any different? Sans lets out a wolf whistle, to which Papyrus promptly slaps him on the back of the head for. 

“Sans! We Need To Make Our Ward Feel Comfortable In Her Body! You Saw The Things She Writes! Cat Calling Is Not Going To Do That!”

You blush at the notion that they know about your self-esteem issues. It’s a little strange to have someone know almost everything about you, but for you to know nothing about them in return. 

“You look lovely, my dear. However, I do seem to remember us getting you actual pajamas, were those not suitable?”

You give him a skeptical look, wondering if he’s actually serious. 

“Not a big fan of silk nightgowns that show off all my cleavage.”

Gaster ponders this for a moment before nodding, “I can understand that. If you want replacements, please do not hesitate to ask one of us. We want to make sure you are comfortable here.”

A brief look of confusion passes through your face as you are pleasantly surprised that he wants to make you comfortable. You were just expecting them to tell you to get used to it. Maybe they weren’t so bad? Well, no, they still kidnapped and stalked you. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. 

“Victoria?” Your attention directs to Papyrus, “What Do You Like In Your Pancakes?”

You shrug, “Blueberries I guess. And you can just call me V, Victoria sounds stuffy.” You grimace at your father’s choice in names. Once again, he liked to pretend he was living a hundred years ago. Papyrus nods, and throws in a handful of blueberries into his current pancake (somehow he just happened to have blueberries next to him). 

“Have a seat, V.”

You glance nervously at the island, noting that the only two seats left are between both Sans and Gaster, or just next to Sans. You have a feeling they did that on purpose. It’s better to have an escape route, rather than being sandwiched, right? You take a seat on the edge, next to Sans, immediately regretting the choice when he shoots you a vicious smirk. Papyrus sets down a plate with two pancakes on it and a fork. You cut into the food (you assume it’s not poisonous, what would they have to gain by poisoning you?), the blueberry juices ooze out of the fluffy pancake, looking way better than anything you could get at a Denny’s. You take a bite, immediately humming in delight as your taste buds are invaded with the best pancake you think you’ve ever had in your life. And that's saying something, considering your dad had world-star chefs on hand. You shoot Papyrus a thumbs up, giggling slightly at the appearance of a dusting of black along his cheekbones. You assume it works as a blush. 

“What do you think about having an outing today, darling?”

You tilt your head at Gaster with a perplexed look on your face: “You trust me that much, already?”

Sans lets out a chuckle next to you, “how slow do ya think we are, doll?”

You flush, realizing that yes, you would be completely stupid to try to run, and that it would most likely end in your capture, and/or a lot of people dead. 

“I’m thinking maybe that restaurant that you like so much, Papyrus. Then maybe a stroll around the park?”

You nod your head, it sounds like an okay day, and you probably didn’t have anything else going on. Gaster claps his hands together, “Excellent! I will go get reservations ready, Sans, change into something a little more presentable, would you?” Sans is currently wearing a pair of sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt. He looks down at himself. 

“what’s wrong with this?”

Gaster scowls at him, “You know damn well ‘what’s wrong with that’. V, dear, do me a favor and change too, I know you have some sort of pants in there.” He sends you a wink, and you quickly look away, cheeks burning. Yea, there was no way in hell you were going outside with no pants on. 

* * *

  
  


__

Sans sits down at the counter top with a grunt, the barstool supporting him gives a groan in protest. Papyrus wordlessly hands him a mug of coffee. Sans inhales the steam wafting out of the cup, black, just the way he likes it. Papyrus clears his throat. 

“It Seems Brother Here Has Already Made A Move On Ms. Victoria Last Night.”

Sans looks over to Gaster with a puzzled look, noting the smug grin decorating his fangs. 

“i thought we agreed to leave her room alone?” 

Sans’ normally baritone voice takes on an aggravated tone at the assumption that Gaster snuck into Victoria’s quarters. Gaster waves his hand in dismissal. 

“Nothing like that, dear brother, she was getting a drink after a  _ interesting _ dream, and I simply satiated some of her curiosities that she most likely had.” 

Sans growled in the back of his throat at the fact that Gaster had already made the first move, he would just have to work faster. Oh, he could already imagine it, he would tease her until she couldn’t be able to take it anymore. Just a few lingering touches her and there, some choice words whispered into her ear with promises of something  _ delicious _ , and soon enough, she would be at her hands and knees for him. A dangerous smile etched it’s way across his teeth. Papyrus cleared his throat, knocking Sans out of his daydream. 

“I Think I Shall Try To Woo Her Today!”

Sans snorted at his brother's use of “woo”.

“‘an what makes ya say that?”

“Clearly I Have The Advantage! She Will Be Amazed At My Pancake Making Skills And Charming Good Looks!” Papyrus shoots a smirk at Sans, “And You, Brother, Only Have Your Idiotic Puns And Terrible Pick-Up Lines.”

Sans’ eyes narrowed as the diss, “ya saying i don’t know how to ‘woo’ a girl.”

It wasn’t a question, but Papyrus answered anyways, “Yes! That Is Precisely What I Am Saying!”

“why you little-”

“Uh, good morning.”

Sans is distracted from his argument at the sight of Victoria in a dress shirt, and nothing but a dress shirt. Well, she might have panties on, but Sans doesn’t want to ruin the image of her going completely commando. Her hair, that was perfectly styled in a choppy bob last night, is all messed up, pieces of hair sticking out everywhere, giving definition to the term “bed head”. He can’t help but to whistle at her, noting how her face immediately turns red. His efforts get him a slap on the back of the head, Papyrus most likely scolding him for embarrassing her, he isn’t really paying attention. 

He stared at her for far too long, basking in the glory of her morning outfit and her cute little yawns she did every few minutes. And then, she made the choice to sit next to him, and  _ only him _ . He felt his little black soul soar at the notion that she wanted to be near him. He knew that it was probably because she wanted an easy exit that wasn’t in between him and Gaster, but he allowed himself the small liberty. 

Yes, it was all falling into place. 


	3. Being Wooed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw: sans being a perv, kissing, beetles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, hey! i'm back with another chapter *insert mandatory applause here* 
> 
> this one is like 300 words shorter than what i normally like to do, but you get to kiss someone else, so be happy. 
> 
> also, i found out, i literally can't go a chapter without something steamy happening, now that i've figured out how to write that stuff. hope y'all don't mind that. 
> 
> please comment! tell me if you want anything special to happen! like most of my fics, i just write when i have inspiration, usually i don't have a plot figured out when i first start to write things. also, i love to hear from you guys, really keeps me going ;)
> 
> have a good wednesday!

You had to admit it was a little strange to be taken on a date by three different people. Especially if you took into account that they were all brothers. You had ended up putting on a pair of black dress pants, but you opted for keeping your “sleep” shirt. The three of you were in an Italian restaurant, the name of which you couldn’t pronounce, no matter how many times Papyrus repeated it for you. Sans had also put on something nicer, but it was basically the same outfit he was wearing last night, a mostly black suit with a red waistcoat. The other two were wearing similar variations of it. 

Apparently, being a part of a name that the whole city feared, gave you some pretty good perks. The waiter had taken the four of you to a private room, away from prying eyes (which could also be seen as a bad thing, no one to hear your screams). The private room itself was definitely made for people just like the Gaster Brothers. A gold leaf ceiling, a gold chandelier, and lavish ferns in porcelain pots. The table was a dark mahogany, pairing nicely with the gold. You personally didn’t like the metallic shade, you thought it looked gaudy. It was quiet when the four of you first sat down, but thankfully, Papyrus filled it with his ego.

“Of Course, These Dishes Aren’t Half As Good As What I Could Cook At Home, But It Will Do For My Masterful Plan To Woo The Human!”

You snickered silently at the use of “the human” in place of your name. That, and the unironic placement of “woo”. The waiter came back in, pouring everyone a glass of some undoubtedly over expensive wine. You personally didn’t have much of a taste for reds, but alcohol was alcohol. You didn’t know how to pronounce anything on the menu, but luckily, Gaster ordered for you. You just pointed out what you wanted to him and explained how you hated to order things that you would just butcher the pronunciation of. You were worried that they would judge you, no matter how much Gaster tried to convince you that they wouldn’t.

“Human V! I Demand To Know Your Favorite Color!”

You raise an eyebrow at Papyrus, wondering why he wants to know something so trivial. 

“Green, why?”

Papyrus made a face, “Why On Earth Would You Like Green? It’s The Color Of Mold!”

You chuckle slightly at his antics, “I like more of a forest-y green. It’s a very calming color to me.” 

At that moment, the waiter comes back in with dishes layered on his arms. He sets them down in front of the designated consumer, naming the plates as he does this. You completely forgot what you ended up ordering, or rather, what Gaster ended up ordering for you. By the looks of it, it seemed to be some sort of rigatoni in meat sauce. You’re good with that. It actually looks amazing. You spear a sauce covered noodle with your fork and bite into it, immediately humming in delight at the flavor. The perfect combination of tomatoes and seasoning. The pasta cooked to al dente perfection. You happily dig in, making sure to savor each bite. 

“enjoying yourself, doll?”

Slightly embarrassed, you look up from your dish. All three of the skeletons are staring at you with smirks plastered onto their faces. You blush slightly.

“Well Of Course She Is! This Restaurant Is Approved By The Great Papyrus After All!”

You nod encouragingly, mouth too full to answer in a proper manner. Papyrus lets out a few “Nyeh-Heh-Hehs!” and the four of you go back to eating your respective meals. A couple of times throughout the dining experience, each of the brothers take it upon themselves to feed you bites of their own pasta on the account of you asking if what they got was any good. You didn’t like the smile that Sans gave you when he fed you though. You just knew something unsavory was featuring in that man’s head. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


After Gaster paid a hefty tip to the waiter (claiming that “he gave them an excellent bottle of wine”), the four of you set off in the direction of the park. The park itself was about a mile from the restaurant, you wanted to walk, but you had taken one of the ridiculously expensive cars that Papyrus owned to the restaurant, so it wouldn’t make any sense to walk to the park, then to walk back. You were sat down on a park bench, sandwiched in between Sans and Papyrus, both of them making obvious moves at attempting to “seduce” you. Sans had his arm wrapped around your shoulder, and had pulled you into him. Papyrus on the other hand, had his hand on your knee and was showing his massive knowledge on trees and various woodland creatures that he spotted. 

You pointed out a shiny green beetle that was walking along the sidewalk, “Any idea what that’s called?”

Papyrus cleared his throat, apparently proud that you were giving in to his game, “That, Dear V, Is Called A Figeater Beetle. Usually Found In The Southwestern United States And Mexico. I’m Surprised It’s Here, It Seems To Be A Little Far From Home.”

“Is it poisonous?” You ask, picking up the beetle before he can respond. Papyrus frowns at your lack of patience. 

“No, It Is Not Poisonous, However, I Would Advise That You Would Not Pick Up Random Things Off Of The Ground.”

You hold the beetle up to the sunlight, letting it crawl in between your fingers and climb up the slopes of your digits. The sun glints off the shiny, hard shell of the bug, making it look holographic. The bug doesn’t seem to mind. You giggle at the feeling of his feelers tickling your skin. 

“I’m gonna name him Jeremy,” you decided on the most random name you could think of. You turn to look up at Papyrus (even sitting down, he’s a good foot taller than you), “Imma keep him. Anyone have a jar by any chance?”

A quiet chuckle comes from Sans, “why’d ya name him ‘jeremy’?”

You shrug, “Doesn’t he look like a Jeremy?”

Sans raises an eyebrow and examines the bug with a scrutinizing gaze, “Naw, I’d say more of a ‘zane’ or a ‘kyle’.”

You wrinkle your nose at the suggestion of those names, “You make him sound like a frat boy. He is a beetle with class, Jeremy suits him.”

“heh. whatever ya say, dollface.”

You continue to let the beetle explore the crevices and curves of your hand. Mesmerized by the iridescence of ‘Jeremy’, you zone out slightly. That is, until Papyrus snaps his hand in front of your face, startling you out of your state. 

“Are You Listening Now? I Was Wondering If You Wanted To Take A Walk With Me, I’m Getting Antsy Just Sitting Down.”

You nod, you were starting to get a little bored yourself, judging by how fast your leg was bouncing. Papyrus stands up, offering a hand for you to take and hoist yourself up, which you gladly do, making a little groan as you did so. You stretch, popping your back and your knuckles, unaware of the effects on the skeletons. You look down at the two other brothers, still seated. 

“You guys coming?”

Gaster waves a hand, “No, I think I might sit this one out, my dear. And Sans is far too lazy to ever want to walk anywhere. Go have fun you two.”

You shrug and start off in a direction at his blessing, Papyrus matching your pace with his long legs. You have a feeling he would be walking much faster if he could, but he was just being courteous for you. Papyrus takes your hand and interlaces his finger with yours. You look down at it curiously, but he makes no comment, so you opt to not bring it up. The two of you walk around the park on a cobblestone path, you admire the trimmed hedges and the well groomed flower patches as you go. The cherry trees are in bloom at this time of year, the ground is covered in a little sprinkling of petals, and the trees are decorated with little pink flowers. It’s very aesthetic looking. 

Papyrus finally halts his power walk at a giant willow tree. The branches are so long that they touch the ground, giving meaning to the term “weeping willow”. He parts the branches and leads you into a small area, surrounded by the leaf covered branches. Light shines through the small cracks, making it look magical. You notice the tree must be a popular destination for lovers, seeing as though years upon years of initials and hearts that are jaggedly carved into the trunk. You would like to imagine that the biggest heart in the middle was done by a love-sick school boy in the late 1930’s, planning on “wooing” his girl on valentine's day with his carving, and maybe a box of chocolates. You smile up at Papyrus, noting the slight blush that has taken its job to appear on his cheekbones. 

“So, I’m assuming there’s a reason you brought me here?”

Papyrus nods sheepishly, before straightening back up and clearing his throat, his confident ego plastered on once again, “V! As You Know, Me And My Brothers Have Set Out To Seduce You! I Am Determined To Get You To Like Me For Who I Am, Not Because Of ‘Stockholm Syndrome’,” he uses air quotes to punctuate his sentence. “And For That Reason, I Have Taken You Here To Show Off My Amazing Kissing Skills!”

You’re a bit surprised by his bluntness, but at least he’s verbalizing what he wants. Instead of being a cryptic mother-fucker like his brothers. Papyrus tilts your head up using a hand under your chin. You can feel your pulse start to thunder in your ears again. This seems like a scene right out of a rom-com, you wouldn’t be surprised if there was a cameraman hidden outside, waiting to capture a romantic moment. 

“Would You Allow Me To Kiss You, V?”

That black blush is back again. You can feel yourself start to flush as well, as the promise of a kiss lurks in the air. You figure: “Why the heck not, at least he’s asking”. You tease with a smirk, and in a slightly breathless tone, you voice your consent, “I think that can be arranged.”

It seems the whole world goes in slow motion at that point. The soft chirping of the birds has momentarily stopped, the soft swishing of the branches in the wind have halted, Jeremy, still on your hand has stopped moving, and the only thing you are focused on, is the nearing of Papyrus’s face. He’s pretty tall, so it seemed like forever until your lips connected with his jagged teeth in a sweet kiss. The both of you seem to be in no hurry to get anywhere, or to end the kiss, so you stand there, head being kept in place with Papyrus’s gloved hand. 

You pull back regretfully, after figuring out that you eventually had to breathe. The world picks back up to its normal pace. Jeremy begins his path to aimlessly explore your hand, and the  _ swish swish _ of the weeping limbs of the willow tree begin their song again. You smile up at Papyrus, noting the black blush has increased dramatically (your own has too). Papyrus’s eyelights are slightly hazy, meaning he’s probably checked out for the time being. You wave a hand in front of his face to snap him out of it, giggling when he resurfaces with a couple of stunned blinks. He looks down at you with a gaze that you’ve only ever seen on three people, one of them just happens to be him. You can only describe the gaze as intense hunger. Like he hasn’t eaten for a week and a five-star, six-course meal has been laid out in front of him. You step back, slightly nervous of what that look might entail. 

You stutter, trying to find a way out of the sticky situation you have found yourself in, “U-uh, sh-should we get back to your brothers?”

“They Can Wait, Can’t They, My Sweet?”

In one swift movement, Papyrus pulls you flush against him, one arm cradling your lower back, the other wrapped around your neck, hand curled into your hair. A slimy black tongue darts out of his mouth and flicks along his top teeth, before disappearing back into the void that is his mouth. He pulls you in for another kiss, this time, not as sweet as before. Like he’s desperate to feel you against him. Sharp teeth nipping at your bottom lip has you gasping, parting your lips and allowing the appendage you saw before, to enter your mouth and explore. You have to admit, he’s a good kisser. On par with his brother. You wonder how much previous experience he has, or if he just used his hand like most teenage girls. Your tongues collide, winding around each other, as the owner of the foriegn tentacle backs you up until your shoulder blades collide with the trunk of the willow tree. Your hands curl into his dress shirt as you feel little shocks of electricity shoot up and down your spine in response to the rough treatment being bestowed upon you. 

“‘ey bro, you in here?”

The rustling of branches alerts the two of you to an intruder as Sans steps into the willow tree. Papyrus jumps back as if he has touched a hot iron, attempting to look nonchalant. You try to straighten out your clothes and hide the fact that you just had a heavy makeout session with Sans’ brother. Sans takes one look at your swollen lips and his eye sockets narrow. 

“fuckin’ ‘ell, bro! this is what you wanted to take a walk for?!”

More rustling announces Gaster as he steps in beside Sans with a slight smirk on his face. 

“Now, now, dear brother. Papyrus played fair in square. Your own fault that you're too lazy to actually take a walk with our beloved,” he teases slightly. 

Sans’ face lights up like a christmas tree as a miffed expression takes it over. You giggle slightly, taking note that he must’ve reacted like this because he was so confident he was going to “woo” you first. 

* * *

  
  
  


It’s been about two hours since the four of you had come home from the outing. You had taken it upon yourself to snag a book from the living room and lock yourself in your room. You didn’t feel like having any more skeleton-related interaction today. Unfortunately, the odds were not in your favor, as your body was trying to make itself known that it wanted food. A loud gurgle echoed around the room as your stomach contracted, trying to digest non-existent food. You groan and hoist yourself up from your bed, mentally preparing for whatever was in store for you, just outside of your door. You open it, bracing yourself for a jump attack, only to open your eyes and find nothing. For some strange reason, you’re a little… disappointed? Ugh, Stockholm syndrome was already started to take its effect. 

You pad down the hallway, careful not to make your foot falls too heavy, less someone were to try to drag you into their room. Entering the living room, you saw that Sans was on the couch… reading something. You didn’t take him for the type that read for pleasure. You try not to rouse him from his zone, and silently walk past him, into the kitchen. Something appears to be baking in the oven, but you need food, and you need it now. You open the fridge, only for a large hand to shut it closed before you can even take a peek at the contents. You whirl around, preparing to face the offender. 

“Hey, what the hell!”

“dinner’ll be ready in thirty minutes, doll.”

You glare up at Sans. In your position, it was a little hard to be intimidating to a man that was nearly twice as wide as you and had a good foot and a half over your head, but dammit if you wouldn’t try. He smirks down at you, aware of your uncomfortable position and the predicament you’ve found yourself in. You make a move to go around him, and surprisingly, he lets you. You keep your eyes on him as you attempt to walk down the hallway, only for him to teleport right in front of your path. 

“why don’tcha sit on the couch with me? we can have a nice talk, just us.”

You shiver slightly at the leer that has plastered itself across his face. You are aware of the fact that you didn’t really have a choice in the matter, so you grumpily plop yourself down on the couch, flinching when Sans situates himself not more than five inches away from you. You attempt to scoot away, only to be caught by the shoulders and dragged into him, to the point where your knees are on his thigh. You raise an eyebrow at him, trying to portray that this is not where you want to be. Sans chuckles slightly, “doll, please, if i wanted ta hurt cha, i would ‘ave done it already.”

That doesn’t make you feel any better. 


End file.
